


Sweet as Pie

by justme123



Series: Sweet as Pie [1]
Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Diners, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pie, Sleazebag Raymond de Merville, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justme123/pseuds/justme123
Summary: David is slowly adjusting to life as a constable in a small town. One late night he finds himself at Debbie's Dinner, and quickly falls in love with their pies and the young waiter who makes them.
Relationships: Brother Diarmuid/The Mute
Series: Sweet as Pie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955512
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	Sweet as Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Quick warning for brief discussions of domestic violence and being mean to cats. 
> 
> Unbetad so sorry about mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

Kilmannan TX was a town small enough that unless you drove through the center of it you may not even think there was a town. Founded in the eighteen-somethings it grew up around a train station as a hub for scattered farmers. During the 1900s waves of economic depression drove most people away, but some families stayed. They would gather each week at Wilson’s bar and the little church. Every so often a new person would move to town, they would chirp about the romantic life of a little town, though usually they were running from something in the city.

Working as a constable in Kilmannan wasn’t hard, but the monotony made it tiring. Most of David’s job involved looking out for speeding cars or deescalating domestic disputes. Twice this week he had a call to fix Mrs. Montgomery’s broken TV.

He wasn’t going to complain though. After years in the military he reveled in the peace of Kilmannan, and its late night diners.

David was put on late shift three months after he transferred to Kilmannan Sheriffs Department. His shift ended at about 10pm after dealing with an argument at Wilson’s Bar. He was desperate for a coffee despite the hour. His new house was on the other side of town. It was a small one nestled between similar homes, most in varying states of chipped paint. David kept it sparse, his time in the army had left him with few personal possessions and a habit of keeping things spotless. The only place relatively full was his kitchen, which was well stocked with the makings of packed lunches, canned pasta sauce, and instant coffee. 

David’s drive towards late night caffeine took him through the center of town, a simple square of streets around an old courthouse. At this hour most places were dark, except for one little place on the corner. Debbie’s Diner still had her lights on, and two cars parked out front. David had heard people in the office gush over Debbie’s deserts, seasonal pies appeared to be the specialty. David himself did not have much of a sweet tooth, but the lit up diner seemed enticing. He pulled his old squad car into a parking space out front, figuring that if the coffee was bad he was only five minutes from home. Then again, he’s only five minutes from anywhere here. 

The diner itself was nothing special. It was clean, but probably hadn’t been updated since its opening a decade or two ago. The walls had amateur photographs of town events, starting from the 1960s. Booths ran along the side with the windows, then a row of tables, and then a bar. A middle-aged couple sat at one of the booths. David nodded at the couple, then took a seat at the bar before pulling out his phone to finish the night’s report. A moment later he heard the doors to the kitchen open. He didn’t look up but he could hear the waiter putting plates down at the couples table. 

He did look up when a menu was dropped in front of him. On the other side of the bar stood a young man that David could only describe as pretty with curly brown hair and lovely doe eyes. 

“Here’s our menu officer,” the young man said, taking note of David’s uniform. “I’m afraid this late we only do sandwiches and pies off the menu, but we have all the drinks if you want a coke or something?”

“Coffee please,” David said his mouth suddenly dry.

“Do you want me to add milk or sugar? I’m assuming you don’t want decaff,” the waiter asked.

“Uh, black is fine,” David said, cursing the fact he was never good with words. The waiter didn’t seem to mind, he gave David a sunny smile and walked off to get the coffee. David would be ashamed to say he checked out the waiter’s bum as he left. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The coffee at Debbie’s was excellent, but David usually came for the company. At least twice a week after his late shift he would drive to the diner. He would sit at his spot at the bar and read or write reports until the place closed at midnight. He was so regular that the young waiter always had a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him. In Kilmannan most people out late at night went to Wilson’s bar, so except for the occasional truck driver or group of teenagers, David was usually the only customer. He appreciated this, as it meant he could have a chat with the waiter, who he learned was a lifelong resident. David got to learn about the history of the town and the people in it, which helped him feel at home. He hadn’t had much time to develop connections outside of the sheriff’s department, especially since he didn’t attend church. David was a solitary man, but that didn’t stop his new home from feeling very empty. That was the excuse he gave himself for staying late at the diner, not his budding crush on the waiter.

It was a little bit later when he got to the diner on Tuesday. The bell above the door chimed as David entered, and he heard the waiter call from the back that he would be out in a minute. David took his seat and pulled out the paperwork for the night. As promised, a moment later the waiter came through the door. He often reminded David of a lamb with the slight spring in his step. The waiter placed a hot mug of coffee in front of David, and unusually a slice of pie. 

The waiter saw David looking at the pie and explained, “It’s cherry, one of our specials for spring. We’re supposed to make a new batch tomorrow and that means we need to throw the rest out if it isn’t eaten. Its still fresh though! Consider it a treat for all the help you give Mrs. Montgomery and the other ladies, they gush about you at church you know. Oh no I’m rambling again, if you don’t like it I can take it back.”

“No no, its fine,” David said, smiling at the waiter so he would know it was ok, when something caught his eye. “Hey, I thought your nametag said ‘John’?” 

The waiter looked down at his nametag, which now read ‘Sam’, then he looked back to David a little flustered. 

“My name is long and … very Irish. Not a lot of people can pronounce it so my boss decided I should just use this old one. I don’t think we’ve had a John or Sam work here in years.”

“Well long and Irish, my name is David.” David said, extending his hand as a formal introduction. He might have imagined it, but the waiter seemed to blush.

“Hi David, I’m Diarmuid.” The waiter – Diarmuid replied, taking the offered hand and shaking it. He held onto it for perhaps a moment longer than necessary before dropping it.

David smiled at him, before picking up his fork and digging into his pie.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Before moving to Kilmannan David never believed in cliché. It took two weeks after his formal introduction with Diarmuid to acknowledge that the fluttering in his stomach were butterflies, not an allergic reaction to whatever they put in that pie to make it taste so good.

David had two problems. The first was how to manage his new sugar intake, but that would be easy to fix with a few jogs. 

The other problem was that he was on the wrong side of the bar. Everyone decent knew that waiters smiled and were friendly because that was their job, not because they were flirting. Diarmuid’s smiles were like rays of sunshine that he dazzled on all of the customers, not just David. The instances of free pies were to clear stock, not a sign of favor. Diarmuid rambled to David about gossip at church or the new movie he watched to fill the silence, not for any other reason. David felt like a miser with his jealousy, he wanted to hoard Diarmuid to himself. He wanted Diarmuid to look at him that way always, to listen to him ramble over a proper dinner.

David was not going to ruin that by asking Diarmuid out. It would make things awkward, Diarmuid would probably still smile at him but it wouldn’t be the same. No, he would carry on as is. He almost convinced himself it would be fine.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Something was off tonight, David could tell by the way Diarmuid’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. He went through the motions of serving coffee, and gave David a small update about the petty feud that erupted in the weekly book club, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

Finally, David decided to ask what was wrong. 

“It’s nothing, just a string of bad luck recently,” Diarmuid said.

“Why not tell me about it, I’m here all night,” David replied. 

Diarmuid looked at David, assessing his sincerity. Then he puffed out a breath, seeming to deflate a little. 

“Everything’s going wrong. I’ve been working all week on my new pie recipe but it just keeps burning or turning to mush. The engine light has gone off in my car, it’s a miracle its lasted so long but that pile of junk is going to cost at least a month of savings. And-“ Diarmuid pauses, then says softly, “and Rock has gone missing.”

“Rock?” David asks.

“My cat,” Diarmuid explains, “I’ve had her since I was 10, I found her behind school as a kitten, she was hiding under a rock. I haven’t seen her in two days and she’s never been gone this long. I’m worried she’s gone for good.”

Diarmuid looks like he’s about to cry, David could not have that. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” they weren’t the best words to use, but David couldn’t think of anything else comforting. “I’m sure she’s just wandering around and will be back soon.”

“I hope so,” Diarmuid said a little warbley. David gets an idea.

“I tell you what, do you have a picture of Rock on your phone?” He asks. Diarmuid nods, David pulls his napkin out from under his coffee cup and begins to scribble on it. “Here is my phone number, text me that picture and on my patrol tomorrow I will ask around.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Raymond was one of the only people in town who was a consistent trouble maker, though his father’s position on the council limited the pushback against him. Most stuff was petty, such as public drunkenness or hunting off season. For years most people had only a mild dislike for him, at least until the incident with Diarmuid. 

The thing was, Raymond could be charming if he wanted. He could draw people in with words, though it usually left them feeling slimy afterwards. Diarmuid is a very trusting person, and when he was 19 it was easy for Raymond to smooth talk him. Diarmuid was taken in, convincing himself that Raymond’s words were true.

“You’re so beautiful,” Raymond would say, “I don’t see why others call you gawky.”

“I’m surprised you passed that test, are you too friendly with the teacher?”

“Your pies are lovely, just make sure you don’t eat too much of them, I want you to wear crop tops in the summer.” 

You see, Raymond was someone who could love Diarmuid. He thought Diarmuid was pretty despite the other kids picking on him, and he cared about Diarmuid’s health. 

He believed that up until Raymond’s palm cracked across his cheek. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Diarmuid’s father, Ciaran, held him close that night. Rocking him as he sobbed. Diarmuid wanted to believe it was his fault, he had spoken out of turn and offended Raymond. However, Ciaran was a good father, and had raised Diarmuid to know that nobody ever deserved what Raymond had done. 

The breakup wasn’t easy though, Diarmuid was scared to go into town unless he walked passed Raymond. It took all he had to prevent Ciaran, one of the town’s main constables, not to take Raymond in on domestic violence charges. Raymond’s father would probably ruin Ciaran’s career if he tried. 

Despite no satisfactory repercussions, the people of Kilmannan had seen Diarmuid’s bruised face and put two and two together. Raymond was henceforth known as a slimy dick for hurting such a sweet person. Five years later Diarmuid was the town darling, and Raymond was the town troublemaker.

David got the text with the picture of Rock before he even got home that night. The cat was mottled gray and brown. She also had a bright purple collar, which hopefully would make her easier to spot if she hid. 

The next day he drove slowly up and down the streets of town. He stopped several times to check both in and under dumpsters to check if Rock was looking for scraps. Anyone who stopped for a chat was shown the picture, but nobody had seen her. 

That afternoon David got a call to follow up on a minor fender bender. Apparently the son of a council member hit the bumper of Rua, another constable who for obvious reasons couldn’t follow up himself. The son was trying to twist the story around, so David was called out to investigate the damage. 

The council member, known as the Baron, had a house just outside of town. It was large for the area, probably built during the towns heyday in the 1800s. The house was a bit gaudy with its gothic architecture, but it was well maintained. 

David found the Baron’s son smoking on the porch, he introduced himself as Raymond, and could immediately tell they would have issues. Raymond gave off this air of pompousness, and looked down his nose at the new constable in town. 

Raymond led David around the back of the house to his car, which was parked in front of the garage. David made notes of the damage on the front bumper while Raymond spun this story of how Rua had purposefully brake checked him to make him look guilty. David didn’t buy it, but it was the insurance companies call, not his. He wrote down the frankly minor damage and the only basics of Raymond’s story. 

Raymond was just getting to the part of his story where Rua was jealous of him, when David heard a meow-like chirp coming from the closed garage. Raymond went on about how he dated Rua’s friend for a bit when he was interrupted by an outright yowl. David looked back at the garage and then at Raymond.

“Do you have a cat sir?”

“No.” Raymond said definitively, “as I was saying, he obviously wanted us to break up so-“

The garage let out another yowl. David began to grow suspicious. 

“Sir, you may not have a cat, but I believe there is one in your garage.” Raymond looked a little caught off guard. David continued, “I would appreciate it if you would allow me to check.”

Raymond clearly wanted to protest, but knew there was no good reason. He scowled, and motioned at the garage with his hand. 

The garage itself was not as well maintained as the main house, seemingly used only for deep storage. Its door creaked as David opened it, and just behind sat a dirty, mottled gray and brown cat with a bright purple collar. 

Raymond immediately feigned ignorance. “Oh! I’ve seen the lost cat signs about him! He must have gotten in there through a hole or something.” Raymond moved forward as if to pick the cat up. Rock hissed at him, then bolted out through the open door. 

David had to act quickly, he didn’t want to loose Rock just as he found her. “Sir if you will excuse me,” he said, “I’ve been asked to find that cat, and I need to grab her before she runs off.”

David quickly asked Raymond to sign off on the damage report, and assured him that they would follow up shortly. Then he rushed back to his squad car to grab a tin of tuna out of his lunchbag. 

The second David cracked the can open he heard a meow behind him. Rock was looking up at him from a few feet away. 

“Here kitty kitty,” David tried to coax, feeling very ridiculous. He firmly ignored Raymond glowering at him from the front porch. He slowly moved towards the cat. Rock hissed at him, and moved further away. He wasn’t going to be able to get the kitty that way, luckily Rock seemed very hungry. David opened the back door of his car, and placed the tin on the middle seat. Then he moved behind the car.

Almost as soon as David was out of grabbing distance Rock ran forward and jumped into the car. Snarfing down the food like she hadn’t eaten for three days, which if David’s theory was right she probably hadn’t. David was easily able to shut the door without Rock escaping. Now it was time to get the kitty back to Diarmuid, he could deal with Raymond later. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

His first week in town David had been presented with a directory made by the church, including a list of all the addresses and phone numbers of its members. They saw it as an incentive to join, part of a welcome to the community gift. He thought it might be a hazard, but he figured in a small town the addresses would be common knowledge anyway. It came in handy now though, he would be able to surprise Diarmuid with his beloved kitty. 

David used the sweater he kept in the trunk of his car to hold onto Rock without fear of her claws. He then pulled her out of the car and walked up the drive to the house listed as Diarmuid’s.

The little house was painted a lovely shade of pale yellow, its door and shudders were painted a contrasting green shade. It had a well tended garden filled with roses and other sweet smelling flowers. David was reminded of houses in children’s books about fairies, it was oddly fitting for someone like Diarmuid. David tucked Rock close to his side and knocked on the front door. 

David almost fell backwards when his boss was the one to open the door. Ciaran could be quite imposing, though David found him to be friendly at lunchtime or when the constables went out for drinks.

Ciaran was just as surprised as David, and looked him up and down, before he saw Rock. Then he turned around and called into the house, “Diarmuid!”

David could here a pattering of feet running before Diarmuid appeared behind Ciaran. Rock immediately started squirming and clawing to try to get to him. Upon seeing Rock, Diarmuid let out a squeal and dived forward. Rock jumped into his arms and began rubbing herself against Diarmuid’s face. She purred as Diarmuid cooed at her and hugged her tightly. 

“Thank you!” Diarmuid said to David after a moment. “I can’t believe you’ve found her!”

David looked between Diarmuid and Ciaran. He had heard Ciaran talk about his son with a great amount of pride. David never imagined that it was Diarmuid. This new revelation added a whole new layer of unattainability to Diarmuid, as he dared not try and court his boss’ son. 

“How did you find her, we’ve been looking everywhere,” Ciaran asked. 

David strongly suspected that Raymond had hid the cat on purpose, but could not prove anything without evidence. He simply told the pair that Rock had gotten herself stuck in a shed, and he heard her while walking by. David didn’t think he fooled Ciaran, but Diarmuid didn’t to question it.

“Won’t you come in? I finally got my pie recipe sorted and I have to thank you somehow,” Diarmuid asked. David could hardly speak when Diarmuid looked at him with such as expression of happiness. It took David a second to pull himself together, than he looked at Ciaran to check his approval. Ciaran nodded and turned to go into the house. 

Inside their house was cozy and nicely decorated, filled with fresh flowers and family photographs. David had never seen a house that radiated such cheerfulness. Diarmuid put Rock down, then led David to the kitchen. The smell of fresh blueberry pie filled the air. David was seated at a small breakfast nook, Ciran took the seat across from him. Diarmuid fluttered around fixing up plates.

“So,” Ciran began, “This is your man from the diner.”

“Dad,” Diarmuid replied, he was blushing again. David looked between them, not quite sure what was going on. Dirmuid brought over two pieces of pie on delicate china plates and placed them in front of the older men. Rock began her chirping meow from the center of the room and Diarmuid turned to set out some fresh food and water for her. 

“It’s just interesting to finally meet your regular,” Ciran continued, “even if I have met him before.” His eyes bore into David, who shifted under the scrutiny. After a moment Ciaran grabbed his fork and took a bite of pie.

“If you want,” Diarmuid said, tuning to David, “I’ll make you a special pie. Anything you want, as a thank you for finding Rock.

“You don’t have to do that. Its just part of my job.” 

“Nonsense, I have to do something for you.”

Diarmuid looked so insistent and strangely hopeful, David could never say no to him.

“I would love that,” David said, and reveled in how happy Diarmuid looked. As he dug into the pie David thought that he would love just about anything Diarmuid did.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a fictional small town in Texas because I have driven through many small towns in Texas. I don't really know how constables work but that is the beauty of fanfic, I can make it up. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed that! Please be nice as this is my first fic in at least 5 years.


End file.
